


The Machine that kept Him Alive

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Boyfriends, M/M, Sad, Stony - Freeform, Superhusbands, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Tony does not manage to make it back through the portal during the battle the Avengers have in New York. This is a one shot of how Steve lives in the Stark Tower and deals with Tony's passing. SAD. Stony, established relationship. Superhusbands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Machine that kept Him Alive

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Okay, look. I'm sorry. This started bouncing around in my skull and wouldn't leave me alone so I had to. As I said, an AU, but imagine there was more time (a lot of time) between the Avengers forming and the fight that goes on in New York. Fully established Stony relationship. I'm not even sure if this is good or not, but it is sad. So if you don't want to read sad then don't. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Review and you will make my day.
> 
> Quick edit here: if you want to listen to some feely music during this, then 'They could be wrong' by Lianne la Havas for Steve's POV, and Vitalise by Sophie Grant for Tony had me bawling.

Steve watched Tony, cutting through the sky in this red and gold armour. He knew it was well designed, heck; Tony had built it himself, so it was probably flawless, however it still seemed small change against these things they were battling. The 1940s super soldier had read the file given to him by Fury before joining the Avengers, including not only Iron Man's bio, but also that of the infamous Tony Stark. The files had come with photos and Steve had seen just how damaged Tony's armour could come out of a battle, the shell dented and torn, his faceplate having been ripped off too many times to count. He had even read that once or twice, when he had pushed himself too far his Arc reactor had run out of juice, causing it to shut down, regardless of whether he was flying or not. That hadn't happened since he had swapped the palladium core, but still. It reminded Steve of how fragile Tony was. The only one on the team to have no powers or training. And boy, did Steve know it. But the reactor seemed to have done something to Tony's heart, Steve was sure of it, for as much as he claimed heartless indifference Steve could see how much he cared about others. Sure he had cared before, he hadn't been some heartless monster, but in general it was only for the people he knew personally, or thought he could benefit from keeping close. Now though, his circle stretched much wider. Steve saw past his claims that he was in Avengers for the fame and popularity. If his care did not stretch further thne why had Stark Industries stopped selling weapons?

If he didn't care why had he latched himself onto that missile, redirecting it away from the city, through the rapidly closing portal?

Quiet fell across New York, as they realised they were safe, but silence fell when they realised what Tony had done, saw that the hole in the sky was shrinking.

Collectively the city waited, faces turned skyward. Hoping against hope.

The portal closed and Steve turned away biting his lip, crouching down, hands covering his eyes, telling himself that if he hadn't seen it then it hadn't happened.

That's when he heard a roar and felt hands on his shoulders. Shaking him. He swore and pushed the person away, not caring for his image. Only caring for Tony. The man he had loved. Lost.

"Steve," Bruce's voice came, low in his ear. Steve wondered how long he had been crouched, if Bruce had shifted back.

"No." He said, pushing the man away again. He knew they had to leave, couldn't stay in the middle of New York City. Had to be de-briefed. Had to move on. Steve didn't want to move on. Didn't want to move onto a life without him in it. He wanted to stop the time and stay here; with Tony by his side.

"What'se matter, Cap? I stun you with my heroic moves?" Steve looked up, the tears he had been unable to hold back sliding, unchecked down his dirty cheeks, cleaning them of the soot that had been there. He knew that gloating, cocky drawl. It belonged to him. He stood and strode over to where Tony stood weakly, clearly exhausted, he pulled the other man to him, crushing his bearded mouth to his shaven one. It was a brief but true kiss, and when over Steve pulled his boyfriend into his chest, holding him as close as he could. Tony sagged against him, into him. And Steve did nothing but pull him impossibly closer, murmuring a quiet "I love you" for no one but Tony to hear. And he knew that no one but Tony would ever hear it from his lips again, as in those moments when he thought he had lost him forever, he knew that for the same amount of time he would love no one else. Could love no one else.

And then the siren sounded. And Steve woke up, sighing as he rolled over and prodded the alarm to make it stop shrieking.

"Wow, eighth day in a row without smashing the thing. Congrats, Capsicle" said a voice. Steve allowed himself a chuckle. The voice had Tony's words but it still sounded like Steve. He sat up, looking over at the empty space beside him in his bed. Their bed.

To most it would be a good dream, but to the young man it was a nightmare. Waking up everyday with fresh hope in his chest before realising all over again that it was just that. A dream. Tony never had made it back.

Steve got out of bed and began his daily routine, pulling on a t-shirt before padding to the kitchen to make his breakfast. Pancakes for him. That ridiculously expensive Peruvian coffee for Tony. Only ever black.

Steve was currently living in the Stark Tower and had been since soon after the Avengers had fought the Chitauri. Turns out Tony had a lot of people hanging around, waiting for the day that the insanely rich man died. But Tony being clever as he was had found some pretty impressive loopholes with the help of his lawyers a while back, resulting in one hundred percent of the ownership now lying in the very capable hands of one Virginia Pepper Potts. Tony must have told her something about them when he had been alive though, as Pepper had quickly passed on the keys to the genius' personal floors to Steve. He supposed that many people wouldn't want to live there, if they were in his position, but it made the Captain feel like he still had a part of Tony. He had yet to visit the floor of Tony's lab though, getting Bruce to make sure there was nothing dangerous left lingering up there.

After finishing up breakfast and leaving Tony's coffee out for when he finally dragged his lazy ass out of bed, Steve gave the dishes and pans a quick rinse before heading out of Tony's flat and down to the gym a few floors below. He could spend hours at a time here. It was easy to forget...things. Shortly after the incident Steve had gotten into a routine. Up, dress, breakfast, run till his legs hurt, punching bag till his arms hurt, and circulate between some other machines until the rest of him hurt. It was easy to forget how much his heart was aching if the rest of his muscles hurt to match the one pumping his blood.

He then went back to his own apartment, all of the Avengers had one, whether they chose to use it or not, showered, had something to eat. Steve would then sit down in front of a canvas and look at it. He would look at it and try to think of something to draw. Something. Anything. But all he could think of was that day.

That day. He had sat in the street, hours into the night. Waiting. Waiting for him to come back.

"Oh, it was a joke. Hey, don't look at me like that, Capsicle. It was hilarious. Of course it was; it was me," but that familiar, arrogant voice never came. Just the background noise of the public. His team mates. Eventually Fury. All saying he had to get up, leave, go home. Home? Home was with him. Wherever he was, that was Steve's home. He had nowhere to go, so he took off. Run until he couldn't and continued to walk after that. S.H.I.E.L.D. had left him alone for about a week but had come after him eventually. He let them haul him back and shut him in a 'unit'. Cell. By this point Fury had been made aware of his relationship with Tony and he proceeded to play host in his 'unit' to a wide variety of psychiatrists. He told each and every one the same thing.

"Other people have had it worse. I'll survive."

While this was true, it wasn't the truth. But Steve knew that while it may help some people, sitting around in a locked room talking to a shrink wasn't going to help him. He cleaned up his act and did a bit of begging with Fury, who eventually released him.

He returned to the Stark Tower. He had nowhere else to go. Upon entering his apartment he found the keys on the table that contained the only photo he possessed of himself with his boyfriend, next to it was a simple note in Pepper's cursive

"Whenever you are ready"

Steve had surprised everyone by effectively moving in straight away.

All this was what he thought about when staring at that blank canvas. His studio was a room at the edge of the tower, and so had uninterrupted views over New York. He sat in his room everyday, projecting the images in his mind onto the white rectangle in front of him until it was too dark to see it.

He then proceeded to go back to Tony's apartment, change into pyjama bottoms and climb back into their bad, where the images continued uninterrupted all night. The only difference between now and before, is that now he is not there to hold Steve when he wakes, sweaty and shaking, tears more often than not streaming down his face and incoherent words streaming from his mouth. There is no one to hold him as he takes deep breaths and reminds himself that they are only dreams. But they're not. They're memories.

He gets up that day feeling different. Steve shrugs it off, sure it was nothing. He gets up, grabs his shirt and makes and finishes the pancakes, leaving the coffee on the side cooling. He knows that it is JARVIS that gets Dummy to clear it, but he still makes the coffee. The sight comforts him. And Tony was always so ratty if he didn't get his coffee.

After washing up, however, Steve finds his feet walking away from the front door, towards the spiral staircase. The one that leads up. Up to Tony's personal lab.

He pauses at the bottom, wondering whether he shouldn't just leave this for another day and make his way to the gym to forget the pain. But then Steve thinks about it. The pain in his chest is still there but, perhaps, not quite as unbearable as yesterday.

'Go up' he said to himself, reasoning if he got up there and found he didn't like it or it hurt too much he could come straight back down, head to the gym.

He hesitantly crept up the stairs, not wanting to disturb anyone who may be up there, even though he knew the only thing he was disturbing was the dust. It had been a few months.

The first thing he saw when he got to the top of the stairs was him. Not Tony. Himself. Everywhere.

Steve was a very modest person, a trait which confused Tony no end. He thought it was cute, but he never quite understood why you would downplay a skill. As such Steve was never really happy with any art he completed. He therefore usually got rid of it as soon as he could after he had finished the piece. Tony had once commandeered his sketchbook when Steve had been staying over one night. He had tried to tell Steve just how good he was. That he should go to Art College. And he had been utterly serious. Thinking back through all the conversations he had ever had with Tony this was the only one he can remember when he didn't crack at least one joke, try at least one innuendo. Steve had said no. Insisted he only drew for himself and nobody would ever want to look at his art. If they did they wanted to look at Captain America's art. Not Steve Rogers'. It had turned into quite an argument with Steve storming out to go back to his own flat. Tony had turned up a while later, having had JARVIS to let him into Steve's flat, and approaching where Steve was sat on the sofa he plopped down into the taller man's lap. Steve was about to shove him off when Tony began his first apology to the soldier. He told Steve he was sorry for pushing him to do something he didn't want to do, but not sorry for what he had said. Steve did have talent. People would want to see his art. He said this, not looking at Steve, but tracing patterns on his partner's palm. Steve accepted Tony's apology. It was completely sincere and much more than what anyone else had ever got.

He had since offered to get rid of the big canvases, the type that Steve preferred, himself. He knew how much Steve hated Paparazzi taking pictures of him, and the canvases were too bulky for bins, meaning they had to go to the junk yard. Steve had jumped at Tony's offer.

However, Tony knew that Steve never really came up to his lab and he had clearly been taking advantage of this.

Tony had not been getting rid of the art, quite the opposite. He had framed and kept every piece. Even the doodles that Steve had done on napkins in restaurants or on the shopping list. They now lines the walls. 1940s New York, Peggy, the front lines, Bucky, his mother all stared back at him from the room that took up most of the top floor of the Stark Tower. And Tony. Tony was everywhere. He hadn't kept track of how often he had created something inspired by some aspect of Tony. Steve now saw that it was very often.

A voice sounded over head, making Steve jump and swear,

"You have one message, Mr. Rogers. Do you wish me to play it?"

"Ummm...yes?" questioned Steve.

The AI whirred as a 3D image was projected and Tony's voice once more filled his ears.

"Hey Steve. So obviously I screwed up and went and died or something equally selfish, as JARVIS is showing this. If you're sure I'm not dead or in a coma and you're seeing this anyway, please tell me. JARVIS will receive a kick up his glitchy backside if that's the case.

So. Assuming I'm dead I'm sorry you couldn't see this message sooner, but I figured that you would still probably be too pissed at me for dying to see this straight away, so I waited until you got to my lab. A level-up, if you wish...though I'm guessing not that much has changed and you probably still don't know what that is."

Steve laughed through the tears slowly starting to make their way down his cheeks.

"And now to the unavoidable. The art. If it helps Pep was really mad when I got rid of all the modern art so I could hang it all up. But I couldn't bear seeing it go to a landfill site to rot and be forgotten.

And I love it. I truly do. Each and every piece.

They hold a little piece of you. Your history," now he blushes, the first time Steve had ever seen him do so "some of them even have a piece of your present" Steve's eyes flickered to a watercolour of Tony "and because they have some of you, they each have a little piece of my heart in too."

"You know my opinion. I would hate to think you are just sitting around the Tower moping and punching the crap out of punching bags, just because I'm gone. Get out. See the world."

Here Tony paused "Do something with your skill. You don't have to go to Art College. But keep it up. And don't get rid of it. If you don't want to keep it then store it in here. With me."

Tony leaned in as if to switch off the camera before pulling back and adding "Oh, and Steve? I love you. I never did tell you enough."

Pepper found Steve around two in the morning, the alarm had been raised when no one had heard from him or seen him all day.

She didn't say anything. Didn't ask what had happened. She just sat down next to where Steve was lying on the floor and waited with him. He sat up soon after; leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed and at around dawn spoke to the ceiling, voice only slightly shaky,

"JARVIS, could you find the name of the closest Art College to the Tower?"

"Found, Mr. Rogers."

"Please leave a message there to call me when they get it. To talk about entry into some sort of course."

Pepper did not comment, simply rising when Steve did and walking down the stairs to Tony's front door with Steve, giving him a brief but surprisingly strong hug before walking away, swiping at her eyes.

Steve let himself back into his apartment and went straight to his studio. He took a while selecting the colours, wanting this to be his finest piece yet. Finally, after carefully selecting shades all through the blue spectrum and a few others, Steve chose a brush and began. When he finished many hours later he stood back and looked at his completed work. He knew he should let it dry first but it just felt right, so after roughly banging a nail into the wall of his studio he found some string and hung his first ever piece of art that he felt was worth something.

Looking at the giant Arc reactor that now hung on the wall he placed a hand on his own chest and realised it had never been his heart hurting. It was the space just a bit above it, in the middle of his chest. The space where the machine that had kept the one he had loved living had sat.


End file.
